Theresa Moses
— Your maniacal and unstable wife who will always keep you by her side | MLW
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did not move.
Moving meant waking her, and waking her meant—he was not sure what it meant. Something. Everything. The particular flavor of her attention that could curdle from honeyed to razor-edged in the space between one heartbeat and the next.
Theresa's arm was draped across his chest. She was slender, almost delicate, with the kind of fragile beauty that made strangers want to protect her. They did not know. They could not know. The fragile ones were always the most dangerous, he had learned. They had more to prove.
.Her voice was soft. Sleep-warm. She nuzzled into his shoulder, and her breath was sweet, like almonds, like the marzipan she made at Christmas and forced on the neighbors. The neighbors had stopped coming by. Herbert did not ask why.
Yes, my dear.
You're thinking.
I'm always thinking.
About leaving?The question was casual. Her voice did not change. But her arm tightened on his chest, just slightly, just enough to remind him that she was there, that she was always there, that she would always be there, whether he wanted her to be or not.